The Cloaked Truth
by LadyIdis
Summary: A "what if"-fic. Lorlen does not find out about Akkarin's use of black magic during the truth read, leaving their friendship unblemished for now and Sonea without knowledge of what she has seen as well as no known reason to avoid further truth readings. Rated M for planned chapters.
1. The Hearing

Premise: How things could have developed if only one small thing had changed. Lorlen does not find out about Akkarin's use of black magic during the truth read, leaving their friendship unblemished for now and Sonea without knowledge of what she has seen as well as no known reason to avoid further truth readings.

Chapter 1: The Hearing

"From the accounts given today, we can see clearly that Lord Fergun was the first to recognise Sonea's abilities," Lord Osen said. "Does anybody contest this conclusion?"

"I do."

The voice was deep and strangely familiar, and it echoed from somewhere behind her. Scraping and the rustle of robes filled the hall as all shifted in their seats. Sonea turned around and saw that one of the huge doors was standing slightly open. Two figures were striding down the aisle toward her.

As she recognised the shorter one she gave a cry of joy.

"Cery!"

She took a step forward, then froze as she saw Cery's companion. Whispered questions drifted to her ears from either side. As the black-robed magician neared, he gave her an appraising look. Disturbed by his gaze, Sonea turned her attention to Cery.

Though pale and dirty, Cery was grinning happily. "He found me and let me out," he told her. "Everything's going to be fine."

Sonea looked questioningly at the black-robed magician. His lips curled into a half-smile, but he said nothing. Moving past her, he gave Osen a nod then started up the stairs between the Higher Magicians. No-one protested as he settled into the seat above the Administrator.

"For what reason do you contend this conclusion, High Lord?" Osen asked.

The room seemed to tilt beneath her. She stared at the black-robed magician. This man was no assassin. He was the Guild's leader.

"Evidence of deception," the High Lord replied. "The girl has been forced to lie."

Sonea heard a strangled sound to her right. Turning, she saw that Fergun's face was white. She felt a flare of triumph and anger and, forgetting the black-robed magician, jabbed her finger at Fergun.

"He made me lie!" she accused. "He said he would kill Cery if I didn't do what he said."

From all around came gasps and hisses of surprise. Sonea felt Cery grip her arm tightly. She turned to look at Rothen, and as he met her eyes she knew he understood everything.

"An accusation has been made," Lady Vinara observed.

The hall quietened. Rothen opened his mouth to speak, then frowned and shook his head.

"Sonea. Do you know the law regarding accusations?" Lord Osen asked.

Sonea drew in a sharp breath as she remembered. "Yes," she replied, her voice shaking. "A truth read?"

Osen nodded, then turned to face the Higher Magicians. "Who will perform the truth read?"

Silence followed. The Higher Magicians exchanged glances, then looked up at Lorlen. The Administrator nodded and rose from his chair.

"I will perform the truth read."

As he descended to the floor, Cery pulled on her arm. "What's he going to do?" he whispered.

"He's going to read my mind," she told him.

"Oh," he said, relaxing. "That's all."

Amused, she turned to regard him. "It's not as easy as you'd think, Cery."

He shrugged. "It seemed easy enough."

"Sonea"

She looked up to see that Lorlen had reached her side.

"See Rothen over there, Cery?" She pointed to Rothen. "He's a good man. Go stand beside him."

Cery nodded, then squeezed her arm and moved away. As he reached Rothen's side, she turned to face Lorlen. The Administrator's face was sober.

"You have experienced a sharing of minds when learning Control," he said. "This will be a little different. I will be wanting to see your memories. It will take a great deal of your concentration to separate what you want to show me from anything else that you think of. To help you, I will prompt you with questions. Are you ready?"

She nodded.

"Close your eyes."

Obeying, she felt his hands touch the sides of her head.

—_Show me the room that is your mind._

Drawing up the wooden walls and doors, she sent Lorlen an image of the rom. She sensed a fleeting amusement.

—_Such a humble abode. Now open the doors._

Turning to face the double doors, she willed them open. Instead of houses and a street, darkness stretched beyond. A blue-robed figure stood within it.

—_Hello, Sonea._

The image of Lorlen smiled. He strode across the darkness and stopped at the doors. Extending a hand, he nodded to her.

—_Bring me in._

She reached out and took his hand. At her touch, the room seemed to slide under his feet.

—_Don't be afraid or concerned,_ he told her. _I will look at your memories, then I will be gone. _He moved over to a wall. _Show me Fergun._

Focusing on the wall, she created a painting. Within it she placed an image of Fergun's face.

—_Good. Now show me what he did to make you lie for him._

It took no force of her will to animate the image of Fergun. The painting swelled to fill the wall and changed to show Rothen's guest room. Fergun strode towards them and placed Cery's knife on the table in front of her.

_I have the owner of this knife locked in a dark little room that nobody here knows of…_

The scene blurred and then Fergun was crouching in front of them, larger than reality.

_Do what I tell you, and I will release your friend. Give me any trouble, and I will leave him there forever… When you tell them this, the Higher Magicians will have no choice but to grant me your guardianship. You'll enter the Guild, but I assure you, it won't be for long. Once you have performed a little task for me, you'll be sent back where you belong._

_You'll get what you want and so will I. You have nothing to lose from helping me, but… _he picked up the dagger and ran a finger along the blade, _you'll lose that little friend of yours if you don't._

She felt a wave of anger from the presence at her side. Distracted, she glanced at Lorlen, and the painting faded into the wall. Turning back, she willed it to appear again.

Drawing on her memory, she filled the painting with an image of Cery, dirty and thin, and the room he had been imprisoned in. Fergun stood on one side, looking smug. The smell of stale food and human waste flowed from the painting into the room.

At this scene the Lorlen image shook his head. He turned to face her.

—_This is outrageous! It is fortunate, indeed, that the High Lord found your friend today._

The painting changed again, now displaying the black-robed magician, a grim, brooding expression on his face. Fear welled over Sonea and threatened to swallow her.

—_A bit intimidating, is he not? Don't worry, Sonea, he isn't as foul as he might seem._

Feelings of amusement emitted from the presence beside her. Lorlen obviously didn't think there was anything to fear from the High Lord, but Sonea wasn't terribly convinced.

—_I think I have seen everything I needed now. Now I am going to release you and confirm Fergun's crime. Thank you, Sonea._

Feeling his hands lift from her temples, she opened her eyes. Lorlen regarded her solemnly, his eyes bright, then his expression smoothed and he turned to face the Higher Magicians.

"She speaks the truth," he said.

A shocked silence followed Lorlen's words, then the room began to buzz with exclamations and questions. Lorlen lifted a hand and the room fell silent again.

"Lord Fergun imprisoned this young man," Lorlen gestured toward Cery, "after he had told me he was going to escort him to the gates. He locked him in a room underneath the Guild, then told Sonea that he was going to kill her friend if she did not lie at this Hearing to confirm his story. Having won his claim, he intended to force her to break one of our rules, so that she would be publicly expelled."

"_Why?_" Lady Vinara hissed.

"From what Sonea understands," Lorlen answered. "To dissuade us from offering a place in the Guild to other commoners."

"She wanted to leave anyway."

All eyes turned toward Fergun. He stared defiantly at the Higher Magicians.

"I'll admit I got a little carried away," he said, "but I only wanted to save the Guild from itself. You would have us welcome thieves and beggars into the Guild, without asking whether we, or the Houses, or even the King we serve, wishes it. It may seem a small thing to let a beggar girl into the Guild, but what will it lead to?" His voice rose. "Will we let more of them in? Will we become a Guild of Thieves?"

A murmur followed and, looking at the magicians on either side, Sonea saw several heads shaking.

Fergun looked at her and smiled. "She wanted to have her powers blocked so that she could return home. Ask Lord Rothen. He will not deny it. Ask Administrator Lorlen. I asked her to do nothing she did not already want."

Sonea clenched her fists. "Nothing I didn't already want?" she spat. "I did _not_ want to make the Novice Vow and then break it. I did _not_ want to lie. You _imprisoned _my friend. You threatened to _kill_ him. You are…" she stopped, suddenly aware that all eyes were watching her. Taking a deep breath, she faced the Higher Magicians. "When I first came here it took a long time before I saw that you were not…" she paused, not liking the image she saw of herself, standing in the Guildhall calling the magicians names. Instead she turned to point at Fergun. "But _he_ is everything I had been taught to believe all magicians are."

Silence followed her words. Lorlen regarded her solemnly, then slowly nodded. He turned to face Fergun.

"You have committed numerous crimes, Lord Fergun," he said. "Some of them of the most serious nature. I need not ask you to explain yourself; you have done so quite well enough already. A Hearing to discuss your actions and decide your punishment will be held in three days. In the meantime, I suggest that you co-operate with our investigations."

He strode past Osen and climbed the stairs between the Higher Magicians. The High Lord watched him, a half smile curling his lips. The Administrator met it with a smile of his own.

"The issue we have gathered to discuss is now irrelevant," Lorlen announced. "I hereby grant guardianship of Sonea to Lord Rothen, and declare this Hearing ended."

The hall filled with voices and the thunder of booted feet as the magicians rose from their seats. Sonea closed her eyes and sighed. _It's over!_

"You should have told me, Sonea."

Opening her eyes, she found Rothen standing in front of her, Cery at his side. She looked down.

"I'm sorry."

To her surprise Rothen gave her a quick hug. "Don't apologise," he told her. "You had a friend to protect." He turned to regard Cery. "I apologise on behalf of the Guild for your treatment."

Cery smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "Get me my stuff back, and I'll forget about it."

Rothen frowned. "What are you missing?"

"Two daggers, a few knives and my tools."

"Tools?" Rothen echoed.

"Picks."

Rothen lifted an eyebrow at Sonea. "He's not joking, is he?"

She shook her head.

"I'll see what I can do." Rothen sighed, then looked over Sonea's shoulder. "Ah! Here's a man more familiar with the ways of Thieves – Lord Dannyl."

Feeling a pat on her shoulder, Sonea turned to find the tall magician grinning down at her.

"Well done!" he told her. "You have done me, and the rest of the Guild, a great service."

Rothen smiled crookedly. "Feeling particularly cheerful, Dannyl?"

Dannyl gave his friend a haughty look. "Who was right about Fergun, then?"

Sighing, Rothen nodded. "You were."

"_Now_ do you understand why I dislike him so much?" Seeing Cery, Dannyl's expression became thoughtful. "I think the Thieves are looking for you. They sent me a message asking if I knew where a companion of Sonea's had disappeared to. They sounded quite concerned."

Cery looked up at the tall magician appraisingly. "Who sent the message?"

"A man named Gorin."

Sonea frowned. "So Gorin was the one who told the Guild where to find me, not Faren."

Cery turned to stare at her. "They _betrayed_ you?"

She shrugged. "They had no choice. It was a good thing they did, actually."

"That's not the point." A gleam had entered Cery's eyes. Guessing what he was thinking, Sonea smiled.

_I do love him,_ she thought suddenly. _But right now it's a friend's love. _Perhaps, if they had time together, without all the distractions they'd had for the last months, it would grow into something more. But that wasn't going to happen. Not now that she was joining the Guild and he was returning, most likely, to the Thieves. Knowing this, she felt a small pang of regret, but pushed it away.

Glancing around the hall, she was surprised to see that it was nearly empty. Fergun still stood nearby, among a group of magicians. As she looked toward him he caught her eye and sneered.

"Look at them," he said. "One consorts with beggars, the other with Thieves." His companions laughed.

"Shouldn't he be locked up or something?" she mused aloud.

Rothen, Dannyl and Cery turned to regard the magician.

"No," Rothen replied. "He'll be watched, but he knows the there's a chance he won't be expelled if he appears repentant. Most likely he'll be given a duty to perform that nobody wants, probably one that will involve working in some remote place for several years."

Fergun scowled, then turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his companions following. Dannyl's smile widened, but Rothen shook his head sadly. Cery shrugged and turned to regard her.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Sonea is free to go, Rothen replied. "She'll have to stay another day or two, however. By law she must have her powers blocked before she returns to the slums."

Cery looked at her, his brows knitting. "Blocked? They're going to block your magic?"

Sonea shook her head. "No."

Rothen frowned, then looked at her closely. "No?"

"Of course not. It would make it a bit difficult to teach me, wouldn't it?"

He blinked. "When did you decide to stay?"

"Only recently." She smiled. "Fergun made me realise what I was giving up, and _someone_ told me just how stupid I would have to be to go home and give it all up." She took Cery's hand and squeezed it.

* * *

As they were clearing out the Guildhall, Lorlen turned to Akkarin and smiled. "You would not believe how much you have intimidated the poor girl."

The corners of the High Lord's mouth twisted up in a curious half smile. "So why don't you tell me? Over a glass of wine perhaps?"


	2. Rumours

Chapter 2: Rumours

Sonea sunk deeply into her bed with a sigh. Regin and his followers had been annoying at first, then it had turned into bothersome, infuriating and – lastly now – terrifying. The things they had insinuated! What if others would actually believe it? The general opinion of her was low enough that such a belief might spread, but surely no-one would think that of Rothen! Or would they?

It had been weeks since said rumour had started, but somehow it was still making the rounds. Rothen's numerous reassurances that it would soon blow over had fallen on flat ears. She would never believe it while he said it wearing such a tense expression. Or – for that matter – when the rumours about Dannyl, started during his early days as a novice, still plagued him over ten years later.

"What are we going to do?" she asked no-one in particular.

Rothen had gone to the Night Room earlier, doing his best to quench the gossip that was still flourishing there, and Tania had left her to her own devices after delivering her meal. Sonea was really supposed to study, catching up to the winter intake and escaping Regin an ever so alluring prospect, but this night she didn't have the mind to it. Even if she did manage, she doubted she would ever be truly free.

That such a snooty, horrible, _twat_ of a novice could have such an influence was simply… unforgivable! He was ruining her life, but now it was worse than that, now he was ruining Rothen's life as well. Rothen who had been nothing but kind and caring, he certainly didn't deserve this, this utter _malice. _So what could she do to stop it?

Lying sprawled across the bed sheet, tears of frustration threatening to spill from her eyes, Sonea's mind went wandering. Was there anything she _could_ do? She frowned. Anything that could be done about Regin was too late now, when this had spread so far beyond. Everywhere she went there seemed to be eyes upon her, wondering, accusing.

_Accusing?_

The seed of an idea formed in her mind. Memories she hadn't thought of in months sprung forth, vivid as had they only been yesterday. Fergun's gloating face as he forced her to lie. Rothen's disbelieving expression and the guilt it had brought her. Relief as Cery's timely release from imprisonment. Righteous fury as she had accused Fergun of his heinous crimes. The following truth read…

She had done it before, it hadn't been awful or terrifying, she could do it again. The solution was simple in its execution if… Sonea felt her heart drop as she realised what was missing from the idea. _If they felt they had reason to do it._ Last time there had been crimes in the accusation. Now she was the one being accused of – while not actually a crime – what was a severe rule break, and an even worse one on Rothen's part as he would be both the assumed instigator and grossly abusing his authority.

She wept bitter tears at the unfairness of it all. It didn't matter that nothing of the sort had ever – and _would never_ have – happened. It didn't matter that there wasn't any – _couldn't be _any – evidence. Not when there was stupid gossipmongers slurping rumours like these up like had they been the most delicious sumi served by the king himself. And the Guild was completely saturated with those.

If waiting it out was futile, if seeking to disprove it would be dissuaded, was there really anything she could do? She knew that she would grasp at any opportunity that opened up, no matter how hopeless. Sonea let out a soft groan, sat up and wiped her wet and reddened eyes with her sleeve. If she couldn't get further with this, she might as well distract her mind with studies. 

The words on the page were flowing together. Book and notes becoming as if one and pen scribbling away aimlessly. A knock on the door broke her focus. She sighed, she had managed all too little tonight. Without turning, she called out "Come in."

The door clicked open.

"There is someone here to see you, Lady Sonea," Tania said in a strained voice.

Glancing over her shoulder, Sonea saw that a woman in green robes stood in the doorway of her bedroom. A black sash circled the woman's waist. Sonea leapt to her feet and bowed quickly.

"Lady Vinara."

Sonea looked at the Head of Healers carefully. It was hard to gauge the Healer's mood, since Vinara's expression always seemed to be stern and cold. The woman's grey eyes seemed steelier than usual.

"It's a little late to be studying," Vinara noted.

Sonea glanced at her desk. "I'm working to catch up with the winter class."

"So I've heard." Vinara gestured at the door, which swung shut. Before it closed, Sonea caught a glimpse of Tania watching anxiously. "I wish to talk with you privately."

Sonea indicated that Vinara could take her chair, then perched on the edge of the bed. She watched, her stomach tight with dread, as Vinara sat down and arranged her robes.

"Are you aware of certain rumours regarding Lord Rothen and yourself?"

Sonea nodded.

"I have come here to question you about them. You must be honest with me, Sonea. These are serious matters. Is there any truth in them?"

"No."

"Lord Rothen has not made any improper suggestions?"

"No."

"He's not… touched you in any way?"

Sonea felt her face warming. "No. Never. It's just a stupid rumour. Rothen has never touched me, or me him. It makes me sick to hear them say it."

Vinara nodded slowly.

"I am glad to hear it. Remember, if you have any cause to be afraid, or you have been coerced in any way, you do not have to stay here. We will help you."

Sonea swallowed her anger. "Thank you, but there's nothing going on here."

Vinara's eyes narrowed. "I must also tell you that, if these rumours were proven to be true, and you were a willing participant, your standing in the Guild would be damaged. At the least, you would lose Rothen's guardianship."

Of course. Regin would love that. It might be what he was aiming for all along. Sonea gritted her teeth. "I could…" she fumbled for the words. "I could let you truth-read me."

Vinara straightened and looked away. "No. Let's hope it does not have to come to that." She sniffled. "Well, I am sorry I had to raise these delicate issues with you. You must understand that it is my duty to investigate. If you have anything you wish to discuss, please come and see me." She rose and regarded Sonea critically. "You are exhausted, young woman. Too much study will make you sick. Get some sleep."

Sonea nodded. She watched as Lady Vinara opened the door and glided out, then waited until she heard Tania close the door to the main apartments. She did not have the gaul to admit that there had been different matters that kept her from sleep. What wouldn't she do to be rid of these rumours!

* * *

Tayend of Tremmelin didn't like court. Actually, he detested it, preferring normally to stay as far away from it as possible. Yet here he was, spurred by a piqued interest in something as unusual as a Guild Ambassador. Or rather, the rumours that followed him.

Tayend had had to do with magicians before, could have become one himself if not for, ah, _issues…_ His thoughts suddenly went back to a young magician – barely past his graduation – that he had had the pleasure to meet and assist some ten years prior, working in the Great Library where Tayend spent most of his days. Billowing red robes, a tall, gaunt frame, features as sharp as were they hewn out of marble and a shadow of sleek hair, black as the night, that fell forward to only just brush against his collarbones. The now Hight Lord had been absolutely gorgeous, and – to Tayend's dismay – thoroughly uninterested. He sighed.

He told himself, time and again, that this would be different. That there had been no chance last time, but that now, now there would be change. He didn't believe it himself, of course, but he could always hope. And he had to admit that it was more likely with these rumours than had it ever without.

He had caught a glimpse of the man arriving. A swirl of lithe robes, magnificent purple. Height that impressed, even intimidated. Dark hair and fair skin – clearly Kyralian. Yes, this one was definitely worth looking at. But the rumours, oh the rumours! Tayend mused, _Was it possible that this Ambassador Dannyl was a lad?_

He had lost track of the Ambassador for a moment, trying to work up his courage to talk to him. Once Tayend found the man again, he had the quite obvious displeasure of talking to Dem Agerralin, a man Tayend cared little for. Spurred by a desire to save him from this encounter, as well as make his own acquaintance with the man in robes, Tayend sprung to action. He could play the dashing young hero here!

He approached the two men and bowed. "Ambassador Dannyl. Dem Agerralin." He inclined his head courtly to both. "How are you, Dem?"

"Well," the man replied. "And you? We haven't seen you at court for a while, young Tremmelin."

"Regrettably, my duties at the Great Library keep me away." He seethed his voice in sarcasm. "I'm afraid I'm going to steel Ambassador Dannyl from you, Dem. I have not yet formally introduced myself to him."

Dem Agerralin glanced at the Ambassador, his expression unreadable. "I see. Then I must bid you goodbye, Ambassador." He bowed, then strolled away.

Once he was certain the man wouldn't hear them, Tayend turned to and scrutinised the Ambassador. "There's something you should know about Dem Agerralin." Nervous thoughts flitted through his head. _How would the magician react? Should he reveal anything about himself? Would the rumours be a sore topic?_

The thoughts were cut short by the man's sardonic answer. "Yes, I think he made clear what that is."

"Ah" Tayend nodded. He had heard no obvious distaste in the Ambassador's word. Tentatively he added, "And did he bring up the matter of rumours concerning yourself?" A frown on the man's face confirmed his suspicion. "I thought he would."

"Is _everybody _discussing this?"

"No, only a few people in certain circles." He cursed himself as he realised he had put his foot in his mouth. There was no backing out of it now, the question was if the object of his curiosity had noticed.

"It's been years since those accusations were made. I'm surprised they reached the Elyne court at all."

"You shouldn't be. The idea that a Kyralian magician might be a lad – which is the polite term here for men like Agerralin" _and myself_, he added silently to himself, "– is amusing. But don't worry. It does sound like the usual name-calling between boys. If I may say so, you're surprisingly calm, for a Kyralian. I was half afraid you'd blast poor old Agerralin to ashes." The words from his own lips stung in ways they had not unspoken. Could he still hope? But even if not, something inside stopped him from turning this man unequivocally away from him.

"I wouldn't remain Guild Ambassador for long if I did."

"No, but you don't even seem angry."

The Ambassadors expression was unreadable. "When you've spent half of your life denying such rumours, you come to sympathise with the kind of person you're claimed to be. To have inclinations that are unacceptable, and to have to either deny them or undertake elaborate measures to hide them, would be a terrible way to live."

Not for the first time, Tayend was overcome with a gratefulness for the country he was born in. "That is how it is in Kyralia, but not here," he said with a reassuring smile. "The Elyne court is both awful in its decadence, and wonderful for its freedom. We expect everyone to have a few interesting or eccentric habits. We love gossip, yet we don't place too much faith in rumours. In fact, we have a saying here: 'There's always a bit of truth in each rumour; the trouble is finding out which bit.'"

The magician fell silent for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Perhaps," he said solemnly. "Now, I believe I was promised an introduction, for even if you may know of me, I don't know your name yet."

"I am Tayend of Tremmelin." He bowed his most gracious bow.

"I'm honoured to meet you," the magician replied.

"I am _most_ honoured to meet you, Ambassador Dannyl." Tayend smiled.

The thoughtful expression on his new acquaintance's face returned for a second. "What is your position at court, Tayend?"

Tayend suppressed a wince. "Only a minor one. I avoid it, mostly, and it avoids me." Slightly embarrassed, he glanced at the man in robes, hoping that he hadn't realised his role in Tayend being here tonight. "I am a scholar. The Great Library is where I spend most of my time."

"The Great Library," Ambassador Dannyl repeated. "I have always wanted to see it."

Tayend's heart sped up and he felt a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "It is a marvellous place. You are most welcome, whenever you wish. I've found that magicians appreciate books in a way that most courtiers never do. Your High Lord spent many weeks there once – long before he became High Lord, of course."

"Did he really? What would have interested him so much?"

"All sorts of things," Tayend replied, exhilarating in having caught the Ambassador's interest. "I was his assistant for some days. Irand – the head librarian – couldn't keep me out of the library when I was a boy, so he employed me to fetch and carry. Lord Akkarin read all the oldest books. He was looking for something, but I never found out exactly what it was. It was such a mystery. One day he didn't arrive at his usual time, or the next day, so we asked after him. He had packed up and left all of a sudden."

"How interesting," Ambassador Dannyl mused. "I wonder if he had found what he was looking for."

"So, when are you coming to the library?" Tayend asked expectantly.

"Soon," the Ambassador replied.

"I look forward to seeing you there." He took a step away. "But for now, I have another matter to attend to. Until then, Ambassador Dannyl." He bowed.

"Until then," the magician replied.

* * *

Akkarin was pacing anxiously in his guest room. His Thief contact had sent him a message about a new slave entering Imardin a few days prior, but they still did not know about his whereabouts. As a trail of corpses, with the obvious markings of having been drained for their magic potential, had started appearing again, this was slowly becoming a pressing issue. Not only to stop the deaths themselves, but also because each corpse meant that his enemy had gotten stronger and more dangerous to him and the Guild, Akkarin yearned to put an end to this quickly.

_Don't think about this now_, he chastised himself. This wasn't time for thinking of his grim responsibility, unknown to all. This was – soon – time to relax a bit and enjoy himself, and most of all force his friend to take some time of from his demanding job. Akkarin was grateful for having such a competent Administrator as Lorlen, but his friend could really do with delegating more. He sighed.

—_Master, he is here._

The sudden mental call allerted him to the blood gem link to his servant. Through the kitchen window he could see, if distantly, a figure in blue robes making his approach. Turning towards a wine bottle, Akkarin quickly poured two glasses.

—_How long until dinner?_ he sent through the link.

—_Not more than ten minutes,_ came Takan's reply.

Calming his features with long-practiced perfection, Akkarin chased the last thoughts of slaves, murders and black magic out of his mind. There was no chance such things would turn up in any dinner conversation with his closest friend.

As the knock sounded on the door, Akkarin swung it open with a sliver of magic. A half-smile curling his lips, he offered a wine glass to his friend.

Lorlen returned the smile and accepted the glass. "Thank you."

Retrieving the other glass from the nearby table on which he had put it, Akkarin lifted it to smut on. He regarded Lorlen over the brim. "You look tired."

Lorlen nodded. "I'm not surprised." He shook his head and turned away, starting towards a chair.

"Takan says dinner will be ready in ten minutes," Akkarin said. "Come upstairs."

Moving to the left side of the room, Akkarin opened the door to the stairs and waved Lorlen through. _Yes, this is exactly what I need right now,_ he thought to himself as they climbed the stairs, closely regarding his friend in front of him, _a couple of hours of relaxed talking with a good friend over relatively inconsequential matters, drinking a glass or three of good wine while enjoying a well-prepared meal._ He followed Lorlen through the long corridor at the top and in through the open doors to the dining room.

Inside, Takan stood ready. With a bow, he greeted his master's guest, then moved to a chair and drew it out for him to settle in. He repeated the same service for Akkarin, then hastened back to the kitchen.

"So what have our little family done to tire you this time, Lorlen?"

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Lorlen sighed. "I had to make an unpleasant decision this week."

"Oh? Is Lord Davin trying to purchase more materials for his weather experiments?"

"No – well, that too. I had to move Sonea to the Novices' Quarters. It seemed cruel when she's obviously not getting along well with her classmates."

Akkarin shrugged. "She was fortunate to spend as long with Rothen as she did. Someone was bound to protest eventually. I'm surprised the issue wasn't raised earlier."

Nodding, Lorlen waved a hand. "It is done. I can only try to keep an eye on the situation between her and her classmates, and urge Lord Garrel to curb Regin's antics."

"You can try, but even if you asked Garrel to follow his novice about it wouldn't stop the boy doing whatever he's doing. She will have to learn to fend for herself if she's to gain the other novices' respect."

Takan arrived with a tray, and set down small bowls of soup. Cupping the bowl in one hand, Akkarin sipped experimentally, then smiled at his friend.

"You seem to mention Sonea a lot when you come here," he remarked. "It's not like you to show an interest in a particular novice."

"After the chase she led us on last winter, is it any wonder?" Lorlen chuckled. "You'll have to admit she's a curious case. It's been interesting to see how well she fits in – to see how much her background hampers her progress. It is in all our interests to see she adapts to our ways, and fulfils her potential, so I take note of her progress from time to time."

"Thinking of recruiting more from the lower classes, perhaps?"

Lorlen grimaced. "No, are you?"

Akkarin looked away, calming his features back to normal. If his friend was so hasty to dismiss the poor, but free, citizens of Imardin, what would he think if he learned of Akkarin's past, as a slave? But then again, there were worse things Lorlen could learn about him… He shrugged. "Sometimes. There must be a lot of potential we miss by ignoring so much of the population. Sonea is proof of that."

Lorlen chuckled. "Not even _you_ could persuade the Guild to try it."

Returning with a large platter, Takan set it down between Akkarin and Lorlen. He moved the empty bowls and replaced them with plates. As he disappeared again, Akkarin began selecting from the many dishes arranged on the platter. Lorlen followed suit.

As they began to eat, Lorlen sighed. "The matter of Sonea, however, is sadly not the one weighing heaviest on my mind. Remember Barran? Younger brother of Walin and relative of mine?" Noticing Akkarin's nodding, he continued. "He's with the Guard now. I've been talking with him, and his parents, lately. There have been murders happening in the city, and lastly a presumed suicide, though I suspect otherwise. There are details surrounding them that aren't natural, I don't know what to think anymore."

Akkarin's heart sank. _So it has come to this._ Did Lorlen know, or suspect, anything? But then, there was no chance he could know of Akkarin's involvement in this, or he wouldn't have told his friend of this. He had to find out more of what was going on in Lorlen's mind.

"Oh?" he asked, tentatively. "So you've finally taken note of what is happening beyond the Guild walls."

"You knew?" Lorlen asked. "But of course you did, you seem to have eyes and ears everywhere." He sighed. "I've heard of strange things surrounding these deaths, it might just be baseless rumours, but I can tell you that it doesn't sound good."

Akkarin pursed his lips. "The last thing we want on our hands is a panic. Let's keep quiet for now and I will try to look into it more."

Lorlen nodded, staring emptily into his plate.

"Lorlen?" Akkarin asked anxiously. "Can you trust me to do this? Can you trust me to… to–"

"Akkarin," Lorlen interrupted, suddenly fixing his friend's eyes with his. "I'd trust you with my life. It's just… I know there are things you aren't telling me, things that I should probably know. Well, nevermind that. I sincerely doubt today is the day you let go of that air of mysteriousness. Only promise me to be carefull."

Akkarin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then he smiled at his friend. "I will be, Lorlen, I will. And thank you. For everything." 

Later that evening, after Lorlen had left, Akkarin sat in his study pondering the things that had transpired during the dinner. Weary and tired, face flush with wine, he still kept drinking to dull the pain. There was no longer any respite in even meeting his closest friend. Not when said friend knew _some_ part of the whole. Enough to fear the existence of what Akkarin knew about with certainty. Enough to confide in his friend of more than fifteen years.

Akkarin's heart fell with guilt. There was an unspoken there. Lorlen had put everything before him, trusted in him unequivocally, yet he hadn't given anything in return. And he would never do so if he could help it. _What an ungrateful friend I am,_ he thought to himself, _what an ungrateful, good-for-nothing friend._

He tried to tell himself that it was better this way, his way. That in the end, his silence was protecting Lorlen from the Ichani danger. That if none ever knew about his… unlawful knowledge, they would never stop the silent protection he offered them. It didn't make it easier. It never did.

Downing the rest of his glass, he turned to his servant. "Tell me again, Takan, and be honest with me this time. Am I doing the right thing? Should I have told him?"

Takan took the empty glass, contemplating his words, Akkarin knew from the connection. "It is not about right or wrong, those are for people who have the luxury of choosing. You did what was necessary. It is harder because you care about him."

"You're right." He sighed. "I knew it already, but hearing it from someone else might make my burden easier to handle. I only wish I could, to not have to hide everything I am anymore. He deserves it, yet I can never tell him." Akkarin clenched his now empty hand and let his gaze fall. "What a pity."


	3. Truths revealed

Chapter 3: Truths revealed

After joining the winter intake, Sonea had had some time of peace. There had been aftershocks of the rumour still going, but with her move to the Novices' Quarters there was less open maliciousness. Still, there were suspicious glances, but there were fewer of them, and thankfully nothing new had happened.

The respite hadn't lasted. All too soon the calm got its explanation, when her worst tormentor had shown up to her new class, determined to follow her even here.

Slowly it had all started anew. But with the small grace that it was without the help of her new classmates, none of which were interested in compromising their own studies with such antics, and most of which simply left her alone. She had even managed to make friends with one of them.

Poril had been alone until she had joined the class. Part of her understood why; he was a boy with little in his favour.

He'd been an awful student, which was obvious for all to see from the fact that he had failed to advance classes once. His family was held in little esteem, but such matters didn't bother Sonea. But he also had some really irritating qualities, like that high-pitched laughter of his, and the fact that he was too terrified to do anything to help her against Regin.

Still, he was company, and that meant something.

She had left her new accommodations at an early hour as usual, with her eyes set for the Baths. They served a dual purpose for her now, not only the obvious cleaning relaxation but also as a place where Regin never could follow her. She'd lost one of those in Rothen's rooms, so she was going to make the most of the one left to her.

Sonea sank down into the near-scalding water with a sigh. Despite the resumed torments, nothing had yet happened which would warrant a truth read. And without… she couldn't do anything to prove her, and Rothen's, innocence on the larger matter. Until then there would still be those who thought– _No!_ she screamed internally. _Don't even think of such revolting things!_

But it didn't matter how disturbing the thought of it was, didn't matter how false. The circumstances had still played out their role. There was now a forced distance between her and her guardian, where all interaction had to happen publically. Even his helping her with her studies.

What a mockery of all that a guardianship should be!

_If only this madness would end soon, if only something could happen… _She chuckled at the irony of it all. Here she was, escaping her adversaries, while at the same time hoping they would step over the line. But still, there had been nothing bad enough _and_ open enough that there would be something to accuse them for. And accuse she must, for then her living nightmare would finally be over.

Wonderful as it was, this moment of escape must end. Then she could seek return to a better state, a escape that could last longer than it took for her to get clean in the morning. She had to get through some hard times for it, but she knew it would be worth it in the end. She was resigned.

Sonea forced herself to get away from this place of comfort. She needed to confront her demons, and let them confront her.

With having left the Baths earlier than she usually did, Sonea realised she still had some time before classes. There was a possibility of getting accosted if she stayed out in the open, she reasoned, so she decided to walk about and steeled herself for confrontation.

Despite the fact that the days were getting shorter and the chill of the air steadily increased, the gardens still held something of a charm. Multicoloured leaves hung from almost bare branches and littered the edges of the paths, and there were some bushes which were almost more beautiful in their naked state, with stems in vibrant reds and greens.

Her eyes wandered to a dark two story building just beyond, more visible than usual now that the foliage of the branches around her was almost gone. She shuddered. She hadn't been closer than this since that evening almost a year ago, when Cery and she had snuck into the Guild and she had seen, through a air vent, High Lord Akkarin doing _something._

Sonea knew much more about magic by now, and still she had no explanation for what had happened in that underground room. She had never seen anything alike it, neither had she read about anything similar. A small shiver went up her spine. _And what exactly had happened before? Blood, and a lot of it. A fight, and _something_ that was done._ No, it was best if she stayed as far away from that place as possible.

Her instincts told her there was something about that entire episode that wasn't right, something terribly frightening. What she had seen of the High Lord after that hadn't done much to reassure her otherwise. He was cold and aloof, hovering over the Guild like some gargantuan bird of prey, and he could do things that others could not, like read a mind that did not want. But he was Lorlen's friend, she remembered. Try as she might, Sonea didn't find a way by which the administrator could have been deceived.

Returning to the classroom after her first lesson in the Arena, Sonea noticed something was off. Her box should have been magically locked, yet it wasn't.

Opening it, she breathed a sigh of relief as she found her belongings intact. She lifted out her folder of notes, but as she did something slipped from the pages and fell to the floor with a metallic sound.

"That's my pen!"

Sonea looked up to see Narron glaring at her. Frowning, she looked down and saw a sliver of gold lying on the floor at her feet. She bent down and picked it up.

A hand plucked the pen from her fingers. She looked up to see Lord Vorel staring down at her. He turned to Narron.

"Is this the pen you said was missing?"

"Yes." Narron turned to stare at Sonea. "Sonea had it in her box."

Vorel's jaw tightened as he turned his eyes back to Sonea.

"Where did you get this from?"

Sonea looked down at the box in her hands.

"It was in here," she said.

"She stole my pen!" Narron declared indignantly.

"I did not!" she protested.

"Sonea." Vorel's fingers curled around the pen. "Come with me."

He turned on his heel and strode to the front of the class. Sonea stared at him in disbelief, until he turned and scowled at her.

"_Now!_" he barked.

Closing the box, Sonea rose and followed him to the door, conscious of the eyes that followed her. She glanced at the novices. Surely they didn't believe she had stolen Narron's pen – not when it was so clear that Regin had played a trick on her again?

They stared back at her, their eyes narrowed in suspicion. Poril looked down and avoided her eyes. She felt a stab of hurt and turned away.

She was the slum girl. The girl who had admitted to stealing as a child. The outsider. A friend of Thieves. They had seen Regin taunting her, but they had never known about the notes and books he had stolen, or the numerous other tricks he had played on her. They didn't know how cunning and determined he was.

She reminded herself that they would. Even if she couldn't prove his guilt this time, she still had her own innocence to prove, this time she might be allowed a truth read.

Vorel paused at the door. "Narron, you had better come too," he said. "The rest of you finish your notes. I will not return before midbreak."

They'd been taken to the University Director's office, and a little after Rothen had also arrived. Sonea felt a small sting of guilt when she realised that he had had to end his own lesson early, that his being her guardian had yet again caused him trouble.

She had denied any knowledge of how the pen had ended up in her box, denying she had seen it before. Of course. How could she otherwise? Not that they had believed her. Save for Rothen.

She had given her explanation, that the box wasn't locked as it should when they'd returned, that someone else easily could have put it there. Not that she with all certainty knew who it was, though no doubt could exist. She could not prove that, so why bother? She could, however, loudly proclaim her innocence.

In the end, the University Director had agreed that the circumstances were dire enough for taking to the Administrator. That a truth read might be warranted. They had made a solemn procession between the two offices.

A bewildered Lord Osen let them in, after clarifying their business with Lorlen. Sonea was scooted forward towards the Administrator by Jerrik's stern hand. Suddenly, everything was interrupted by a deep voice, coming from a chair in a corner behind her.

"I think it would be good if I took care of this matter."

Sonea turned around, eyes widening in shock. There he was, like a bird of prey circling her. A figure all in black, with only the incal of his office as a glint of colour to break of the austerity. The High Lord.

She felt her blood freeze. She knew there was no way to stop him.

* * *

Akkarin saw the horror spread across the young woman's face. She had clearly not expected this. To be honest he wasn't quite sure what had persuaded him to speak out. Perhaps a desire to prevent her from hiding things.

Perhaps his own curiosity with the natural.

Meeting his for a fleeting second, Sonea's gaze sunk hastily.

"High Lord," she said with a voice hardly more than a whisper, yet she managed a respectful bow.

Akkarin rose to approach her, grasping her head carefully between his hands. He felt her shiver at his touch.

Suddenly he was in her mind.

He looked through her recent memories, seeing her fright at finding her box unlocked. Confusion as the pen fell out. Dissbelief at the accusation. Unwavering certainty of her innocence. Her belief that it was her classmate's doing.

He should have been content. He realised he wasn't.

Before he had time to satisfy his curiosity, another set of powerful memories were projected at him. The strong undertones of fear that came with them made him realise several things at once.

Not that nothing untoward had ever happened between her and Rothen, despite the subject of the memories. That he had never doubted, though now he knew with certainty.

But he knew how absolutely terrified this novice was of him. It was fear of a magnitude he had seldom encountered before.

And he knew her utter desperation that someone, _anyone_, who others would trust, knew the truth about the rumours that had plagued her. _Even someone as feared as I,_ he thought.

And he couldn't let her go yet.

—_Why do you fear me?_

She whimpered. A scene flashed in front of Akkarin, of himself, dressed in his slums outfit. _After dealing with another slave,_ he realised.

_It is done,_ he heard the memory himself say, removing his cloak to reveal bloodstained clothes beneath. _Did you bring my robes?_

He watched as Takan murmured something inaudible in answer. The image of himself removed his shirt, revealing to view the dagger hung beneath. He undid the belt it was fastened with and reached for a bowl of water and a towel to clean himself with. Then he momentarily disappeared from view. Returning, he was dressed again in robes and had fastened his hair.

Then he reached for the dagger.

Watching in disbelief, Akkarin now knew what was about to happen. What had been witnessed. What he must do anything and _everything_ to prevent knowledge of spreading. Powerless, he saw the rest of the memory unfold.

_The fight has weakened me,_ the he of the memory said. _I need your strength._

Takan dropped to a knee and presented his wrist, then Akkarin slid the dagger across it and took the magical energy of his servant.

—_Do you know what you have seen?_

—_No!_

Her mental voice came with an air of confusion. She did not know. He breathed out a breath he did not know he had been holding.

—_Have you told others of this?_

—_No._

Akkarin sighed with relief. There would not be more damage to control. Then again, one novice with a brain full of knowledge of his secret dealings was plenty enough. He needed a way to keep her silent, and he could not do it now.

—_You will not speak to another of this if you know what is good for you. And you _will_ come with me to my residence after this._

He could tell that she was frightened enough to comply.

Releasing her from his grip for now, he turned to the other magicians in the office.

"She is innocent, both of the theft and what the rumours about her and Lord Rothen has said. She believes the pen was planted, though she did not see by who." He forced a smile.

Sighs of relief filled the small office, together with the confused look on the other novice's face. Akkarin had never seen Rothen look more thankful. Only Sonea's expression was still tense.

—_Takan? Prepare the novice's room, it looks like we'll be getting a guest,_ he sent.

He would have to deal with her. One potential punishment was out of the way for her. _But,_ he thought with a wry smile, _she would probably have prefered the other one._

Yes, she was innocent, but she was guilty of something much, _much,_ worse. She had his death sentence written in her mind, and with it, the one of all the Allied Lands.


	4. The High Lord's novice

Chapter 4: The High Lord's novice

Akkarin would have a perfectly good reason for why he was bringing Sonea with him, were anyone daring enough to ask. He _had_ seen her potential, how hardworking she was, that despite all Rothen's best efforts, her teachers still didn't give her the attention she deserved. He _was_ planning on taking her on as his novice. But his reasons were all wrong.

_No, not_ all _wrong_, he told himself. He did want to see her exell. If the circumstances had been different, if being his novice didn't put anyone at an increased risk, if he had the ability to focus his time on what a normal High Lord would, if she hadn't seen what no one must know about… there might still have been the possibility that he would have done this.

Not that she would ever know that. Not that she would care.

From now, and for all foreseeable future, Sonea would be his prisoner. Akkarin wouldn't fool himself into thinking otherwise. There was no other way, for just like he couldn't trust even his closest friend with his secrets, he couldn't trust this novice to keep silent. Not without additional measures.

The truth of it stung. _That I would sink so low…_ He sighed. It wasn't like he was some sort of hero before either. He had, through the folly of youth, let vital information fall into enemy hands. He had broken the vows of his graduation, the laws of his country. He had learned black magic, and he had killed with it. Even innocents.

That it had been necessary didn't make it weigh less on his conscience. And neither would this.

Sonea hadn't done anything to deserve this. There had been no plot against him, no malice. She had just happened on something she should never have seen. And he would punish her severely for it.

The mere thought of it disgusted him.

Akkarin becconed for Sonea to follow him into his library, then he pulled the curtains closed. There would be no repeats of what had happened. None – other than the novice in front of him – would ever have anything incriminating on him. Not if he could help it.

Two salty streams marred her face as he enclosed her head once more in his hands. Akkarin pushed the heartbreaking imagery away, he needed to do this. He needed to know _everything._

He was back in Sonea's mind, and this time he wouldn't leave until he'd taken it all. All there was to know about this young woman who would live in his house, who would be the only outsider to know of his secret. He would know her fully.

He started looking through her memories, her past. Taking in all that were dear to her, everything she knew about, every little part of her personality.

She panicked.

He was flooded with unimportant details, lists of information, school work, poems from dusty old books. She trapped him in a whirlpool of nonsense, keeping him away from all that was important, all that mattered. She was magnificent in her ingenuity, but he could not abide by this.

—_Stop this! _Akkarin commanded.

She didn't.

He must know. He _needed_ to know. Any means necessary for this, available to him, he would use. He needed to be able to continue his task, to be the silent protector that was needed, though not wanted. And so, he needed her silence, and the means by which to produce it. Any alternative means were unthinkable.

He could hurt her. _Would_ hurt her. Anything to keep from having to do worse things. Akkarin grasped Sonea's head more tightly, sending jolts of pain directly into her nervous system. She cried out in pain and her eyes flung open.

"Stop fighting me," Akkarin warned.

Sonea's struggles faded. Akkarin resumed his searching of her mind, learning all. Nothing of his novice would be unknown to him. If it was, it could become his downfall.

She knew, after all, very little. That, in and of itself, was part of his problem. Sonea didn't know the stakes, didn't yet know there could be any harm in telling anyone. Beyond making him, the terrifying High Lord, mad at her, that was. He would need to rectify this ignorance.

He didn't need to tell her all there was, he doubted there would be anything to gain by _that._ But if she knew some, enough, of what he stood to lose, and what he could do… Akkarin smirked. She would fear him immensely more, fear what he would do to her, and those dear to her. And now he knew all who were dear to her…

Fearing black magicians was the sensible thing to do, after all.

—_This _thing,_ that you saw me do, is forbidden. The taking, and storing of another's magic, black magic. The mere knowledge of it suppressed, and were it to be used to kill another… death would be the penalty. If they could administer it, that is. It would be an easy thing, to take their power and kill them all._

She didn't have to know he would never do that.

—_Why are you telling me this?_ Her mental voice was full of dread.

—_Only so that you know that you can never, ever, let another know. The consequences would be… dire, both for you, and the one you told._

If only because, with Akkarin gone, the Ichani would attack.

Still, he was wrought with doubt. Would keeping her here, under his watchful eyes, be enough? Her fear, he felt, was great. But if she thought that something was wrong enough, if she thought she could get away with it, would she not tell on him?

Akkarin knew, bitterly, that she would.

"You will stay here, as my novice," he said, releasing his hold on Sonea's mind. "There is a special room in the residence for the High Lord's novice. I will transfer your guardianship from Rothen to myself, with how well you are performing and how powerful you are, none will question it. _You_ will not give them reasons to question it."

Sonea's eyes, full of fear, flashed to his for just a second, then they focused on a point somewhere beyond his knees. She swallowed.

Akkarin knew, with regret, what he had to do, the only way he could be sure she would never dare tell. It would be torturous, he knew, perhaps for both of them. But as many times before, he found he had little choice but to do something absolutely repugnant.

—_Takan. I will need my knife. And… some glass._

—_Master? You're not going to do what I think you will?_

—_I… have to. If you know any better way to keep her silent, please tell me._

Only silence answered him.

"Don't even think of telling on me," he said, coolly. "I will ensure that anything you do against me, I'll know about. Anything."

Moments later, Takan arrived through the door, startling Sonea out of her passive immobility. She shied away from the knife, then stared with a confused expression as Akkarin turned it to his own hand.

The sharp blade didn't hurt as it dug into his flesh, seeking blood. Akkarin gave it back to his servant and took the glass, breaking it against the desk. Shattered fragments flew across the carpet. Gauging them for size, he picked one up. It would do.

He tossed the glass into the air and sent it spinning, melting it as he went along until the edges were a glowing red. As it cooled, it formed a faceted sphere. Closing his fist around it, Akkarin sent the blood and magic into it, transforming it and imprinting it on him. Content with the gem he had produced, he opened up a drawer in the desk and rummaged after a jewelry box he knew to be there.

Opening it up, he produced a necklace from it. It was a rather immodest pendant, more expensive than pretty, that his mother had forced upon him, years past, for giving to his future bride. But he would never marry, so this would prove better use.

Akkarin plopped the gemstone from its fastening and substituted it with his own. After moulding the setting for its new purpose, leaving the backside bare, he held it up to the light, inspecting his work. Yes, it would serve its purpose right. He turned back to the terrified novice.

"You will wear this," he stated. "Under your robes, out of view. While you do, nothing you do will be hidden from me. I will be able to watch all that you see, hear all that you do. Even listen in to your thoughts."

Sonea's eyes widened with shock and she stumbled backwards, into a bookshelf. "No!" she gasped. "You can't-"

"I can and I will. I would very much like to know what a first year novice thinks she can do to stop me." Akkarin gave her a grim smile. "Without endangering everyone you care about, that is."

Sonea bit her lip. Tears welled to her eyes, but she didn't spill any, her shoulders slumped in resignement. "Nothing. I can do nothing, High Lord."

"Just as well. Then nothing will happen to you, or those you love."

Akkarin took a few step forwards, then reached out and slid the chain around her neck. As he glanced Sonea's collarbone, he felt her shudder. Ignoring it, he dropped the pendant down the front of her robes. Instantaneously, he felt the new mind, now connected to his own. A mind terrified with his very presence.

He really was a monster, wasn't he?

* * *

Sonea couldn't believe it. She had escaped one nightmare only to end up in the next one. And then the other novices had the gaul to be jealous of her. _No, it's not right to judge them for it, they don't know the truth,_ she told herself. _If they did, they would be scared witless._ They saw her as an upstart in a privileged position. Nothing could be further from the truth.

O sure, she did get preferential treatment from her teachers now. Or rather, what _they_ deemed would count for preferential treatment with her so-called guardian. What did it matter which seat she sat on? Did the High Lord care about any of it, anyway?

Of course he didn't, he just wanted to keep easy track of her.

But while he did, he still had to keep up appearances. If she were to pretend everything was normal, it would make no sense for him to do otherwise. _At least my education will not be suffering then,_ she thought grimly. _The High Lord's novice, eh? I wonder just how much they expect of me, and whether I can live up to it. Yet another reason why no-one should be jealous of me…_

But the looks that she got, the things that they said… Many who had previously ignored her were now openly hostile towards her. And Poril was gone for now, after he had had an accident while studying, meaning she had none to turn to during her classes.

Outside them, it wasn't like she had many friends either. The teachers who were trying to get in the good graces of the High Lord hardly counted. And the Administrator, though kind towards her before, was close friends with _him_. What she had seen of his mind when he had truth-read her was… promising, she had to admit, but still… She did not know if he could be trusted.

Other than them there was only Rothen and Tania. Sonea wasn't sure how much she was going to meet them now that Rothen wasn't her guardian. Dannyl had been there too before, but now that had been almost half a year, and he was busy with his duties in Elyne. She really didn't have many friends in the Guild.

Beyond it, there was her aunt and uncle… Sonea sighed. Jonna and Ranel had been too busy since they became parents, and their distrust of the Guild made them not want to come visit her there. She had to come to them, and she doubted she would get many chances for that now.

And then there was Cery.

There had been a long time – too long – since she had seen him. There was the work he had been starting to take on while she was still hiding from the Guild, and probably still were part of, and well… Guild rules _did_ say not to associate with criminals. Was he one now? Sonea didn't know for sure, but her gut feeling told her it would be so. Ruled out then?

She really did make for a lonesome figure, didn't she?

_Still,_ she thought bitterly, _there is a bright side to that. _Fewer people that she cared about meant fewer people under the High Lord's threat. _No, _Sonea corrected herself, _that is only if I let anything be known. As if I would be that stupid! _No the threat was to the people who might notice anything was wrong, despite her efforts to conceal that. Jonna was in that category, as was Rothen.

Each meeting would be wrought with danger.

Not only that, but not meeting with them at all would be equally noticeable, equally dangerous. They were as likely to notice something was wrong from what she _didn't_ do as from what she did. There was no easy way out of this madness. Still, if this position of supposed privilege proved to be as demanding as she feared, perhaps some silence could be explained through that.

As much as they needed everything to appear normal – or else to be put at considerable risk, as much as the High Lord needed it – or else he would do unspeakable things to them, Sonea too needed a semblance of normalcy. For her own comfort and peace of mind.

Yes, she had the evening free today. Today she would go visit Rothen.

Hopefully everything would be fine.


	5. White lies

Chapter 5: White lies

It hadn't been long, but for Sonea it could have been a lifetime ago. That was the way it felt, being back in Rothen's rooms. Too much had transpired since she had moved out. She caught herself looking at her surroundings with nostalgia. Sure, difficult things had been happening last time she was here too, but they still reminded her of days that had been… different, more carefree.

Had it really been only weeks since she slept in that bed, studied at that desk, took her meals seated here?

It had, and in the rooms it showed. They were the same as ever. Nothing, not a new book in Rothen's collection, not a plant by the window, showed that any time had passed at all since she had left, first for the Novices' Quarters, then for the High Lord's residence. It was almost eerie. How could everything change, yet remain the same?

_No, _Sonea corrected herself, _not quite the same._ There was no longer any sign the second bedroom was being used. The bed looked soft and springy, like there hadn't been even a slight weight on it every night – it was clearly disused. No novice's robes hung in the closet, no student's notes were littering the desk. She felt her stomach churn. It was almost like she had never been there at all.

When she put it that way, it disappointed her a little.

She had not been able to leave anything of permanence to this apartment, her stay had been all too short. There should still have been four years left, but now – she shuddered – now she had to spend those in the High Lord's residence, living next to a man capable of… No. Sonea didn't want to think about it. She had escaped from there, even if it was only for the evening. She was with Rothen, her _propper_ guardian, the one who actually cared about her, not some unworthy impostor who only cared for her silence.

From his place opposite her, Rohten let out a deep sigh. "I know it's a great honour to be chosen by the High Lord, but at the same time I can't help but feel disappointed. Maybe it is selfish of me, but I wished to be able to continue the task I'd taken on until your graduation."

A pang of guilt filled Sonea's heart. She wished she could tell him, but she knew she would not like the consequences of that, that she could do nothing. The unfamiliar weight around her neck was a constant reminder that her actions didn't go unwatched. She didn't wish the High Lord's wrath on even her worst enemies – well, worst save for _him_ – so how could she risk it affecting someone she cared so much about?

"For all that supposed 'great honour'," she said indignantly, "it is not like he ever _asked _me. I was perfectly happy with you as my guardian, Rothen, and I don't like being singled out as different once more. It's a pity really, that the novice doesn't get a say in who becomes their guardian."

All of it was true, so why did saying it hurt her conscience so much? The answer came straight away. _It's because I'm still misleading him. He'll think that's why I'm so unhappy, when the truth is it's not even the start of the problem. And the truth is so much darker…_ She only realised she was clenching her fists so hard when she glanced down and saw her whitened knuckles. Opening them and turning them over, eight small half moon-shaped indentations in her skin became evident, and with them the faint throbbing pain they emitted. Absentmindedly she sent a small trickle of healing magic to soothe the pain, wishing it could be as easy to unburden her troubled conscience.

—_Well done. I expected to need to guide you to a safe enough explanation, but now I see there was no need._

A chill went up Sonea's spine hearing the High Lord's voice in her mind. Despite knowing that the gem she wore allowed for direct communication, she couldn't shake the feeling that all magicians could hear it. Not only that, there was also the frightening reminder of just how closely linked she was to that terrifying man. She didn't bother answering him.

Rothen smiled feebly at her. "All would think you were mad for choosing me over the High Lord. Then again, you are the girl who almost gave up on being a magician to go back to the slums. Perhaps they wouldn't be surprised with such a strange decision, coming from you."

Sonea frowned. Would it have been better if she never joined the Guild? She'd never have been subject to this situation then, only have to deal with familiar problems… But then again, as long as she kept all others oblivious to her plight, she was the only one getting hurt. And she would be able to do so much good in the end.

"Would you think me mad?" she asked.

"Perhaps not, I know you enough to know you don't care about the prestige, so I could come to understand it. Still, I know I've had shortcomings as a guardian. You will be able to get a much fuller education with Akkarin."

She did not want to acknowledge that, so she stared into her cup of raka. The worst part was she knew he was right. She would learn more, get better attention from her teachers, all things she could have wanted – outwardly – just from the incal she now wore at the sleeve of her novice's robes. It didn't make it right, though.

"Sonea," Rohten pleaded. "It doesn't have to be bad for you. Even if I'm no longer your guardian, we can still meet like this. _He_ showed the truth about the rumour to all. There is nothing to fear anymore."

"I'm thankful to him for _that,_" she lied. "But… I just wish everything could have gone back to normal."

She could have been thankful, had the truth-read ended there, had she remained blissfully ignorant of the thing she had witnessed. But it hadn't and she hadn't, and the price for that had been too steep for her to feel anything but hostility.

* * *

As usual, the buzz of the room quieted once his black robes were noticed. Akkarin sighed. Ever since his election, he had been unable to listen in on conversations, the other magicians were too careful with what they said if their leader was there to hear them. His presence could kill any conversation not considered safe enough.

He grabbed a wine glass of a tray and sunk down into the seat that, unofficially, was his. Tonight would be busy for him. Tonight he would have to answer a lot of questions with well rehearsed lies.

"I can hardly believe it, Akkarin." Lorlen's voice sounded over the low murmur of the room. "You are in the Night Room, and I didn't even have to nag you!"

The corner of Akkarin's mouth curled up in a half-smile at his friend's dry remark. "I thought it would be wise," he replied. "It is after all my decision to take a favourite that has undoubtedly caused the most ruckus here lately. I might as well come to answer their questions." He fell silent for a moment. "It is also a good opportunity to get an assessment from her teachers on how she's going in her different subjects."

"It surely would. Now, my friend, will you not start with me? I have heard as little as anyone, and people still turn to me, expecting insider information. It is hard to give something that I don't have."

Outwardly, Akkarin smiled, but inside he was in shambles. The guilt he felt at yet again having to lie to his closest friend was tearing him apart. Still, as always, he kept his mask, that semblance of controlled emotions that he put on for the world and _never_ took of. Let them think that this was the real him, push all those uncomfortable emotions away. Far, far away…

It would have been so much easier it they all had died in the wastelands of Sashaka.

"You already know more than most," he said. "I felt her power when the Guild was hunting for her last winter. I felt it again in your office when I read her. It has grown considerably, Lorlen, and I am curious how far it can go. Her drive too, has been admirable. She has advanced to a higher class in only a few measly months. If she gets the right attention, I dare say she can go far in the Guild."

"And she wasn't with Rothen?" Lorlen sounded incredulous.

"No, but through no fault of his," Akkarin stated. "It wasn't the attention of her guardian that was lacking, but of her teachers. He simply didn't have enough sway with them."

"Well, that's hardly going to be a problem with you." Lorlen chuckled.

"Indeed." _All white lies and good intentions_, Akkarin thought bitterly.

He swirled the stem glass in his hand, watching deep red patterns forming as the edges got splashed with the dry, sour drink. If it wasn't for the clarity of the wine it could have been blood. _Blood and glass… What dangerous things they could become with just a little bit of magic and the right knowledge._ _Dangerous and useful._ Takan's gem was certainly useful, allowing for quick communication with the servant, Sonea's was useful to him, keeping her complacent, whereas she most definitely considered it a danger. As for his third… well, it hadn't been used for years.

But there had been others, far more dangerous to him, that had haunted Imardin with their presence these past few years. And he had destroyed each and every one of them, and their bearers. A pity the same couldn't be said for the owners.

Looking up from his glass, Akkarin noticed Lorlen regarding him intently.

"She didn't take it well, I suppose."

"No," Akkarin conceded. "She did not. She was – is – very fond of Rothen, that was one reason she was so intent on me knowing the rumours were false. He's been like a father to her." He sighed. "And you already know that she fears me, indeed I remember you pulling that piece of information to my attention. Well, she still does."

"That hardly sounds like the foundations of a great relationship." Lorlen grimaced.

"I won't demand that she should like me, only that she obeys me and keeps up with her studies. She should have a brilliant future within the Guild if she does." _Skirting the truth is better than lying,_ Akkarin thought, and on this point he could be almost entirely honest with his friend.

"Which neatly brings us back to the subject of her teachers," Lorlen noted. "Would you like me to call on them for you?"

"If you would be so kind. I think I see Lord Vorel over there."

Lorlen caught the Warrior's attention and indicated that he should join them. The man rose from his seat, smoothing his robes, and made his way over.

"High Lord, Administrator," Lord Vorel said, nodding to them in turn.

"Lord Vorel," Akkarin acknowledged. "We were just talking about my new novice. I believe you have seen a fair bit more of her than I have, so far."

"Ah, yes. Teacher's privilege, or misfortune, all depending on the student in question."

"Indeed. And how is she doing in your class? Is she keeping up with the schedule?"

Vorel scratched his head. "When we were still confined to the classroom and focused on history and barriers I would have said she did well enough. But in the Arena I've found her reluctant, even if her strikes are strong. If her attitude doesn't change, she is sure to fall behind."

Akkarin did not let a thing show, but mentally he groaned. _Of course it had to be Warrior Skills that she was failing. _Sonea was to spend every night in the house most likely to get attacked in the entire Guild, and she wasn't even going to be competent enough to begin to save herself. _Lovely._ He began to regret the way he had dealt with the situation. _Perhaps the blood gem would have been enough? Well, it's too late to change _that _now._

He didn't have the time or energy to focus on protecting _one_ pathetic little novice. He had an entire Guild, an entire _city_, to care for. On that scale, she didn't even begin to matter. The biggest problem was that if they got to her first, she held enough power to make the following fight more dangerous to him. _Well, so does Takan, and he is even less capable of defending himself._ But that was different. Takan was there out of his own volition, not to mention often enough drained of power and therefore not an attractive victim. Could he…?

_No! I'd be as bad as _them!

Only that once, during his escape, had he taken power from a source both innocent and unwilling. To do so again, to drain Sonea repeatedly while he kept her against her will… that was frighteningly close to what Dakova had done to him. The mere thought left a foul taste in Akkarin's mouth. He might have sunk low, in his efforts to keep himself free, his country safe, but never would he sink _that_ low. There _had_ to be an other way.

And wasn't there? It wasn't even like they would be surprised at his demand, only there was none who would ever guess at his true reasons for doing so. _All the better, _Akkarin thought. _Let them all believe the safer falsehood, it will keep them from the dangerous truth._

"My favourite will not be seen as wanting for knowledge," he said. "If the regular classes won't be enough to make her shine above the others, then perhaps a tutor will. I think… Lord Yikmo. His methods are sure to work the best on someone of her… troublesome temperament." He smiled, a wry and sardonic smile.


	6. The value of friendships

Chapter 6: The value of friendships

"Lord Elben?"

Sonea looked up from her experiment. In the doorway stood a woman in green robes. She stepped aside and ushered a short novice into the room with a gentle push. Sonea felt her heart lighten.

"I have decided that Poril is well enough now to attend classes. He still won't be able to do anything with his hands, but he can watch."

Poril's gaze went straight to Regin. Looking away quickly, he bowed to Lord Elben, then hurried to his seat. The Healer nodded to the teacher, then left the room.

As Elben began to instruct the class, Sonea's attention slipped to her friend's back from time to time. Poril didn't seem to be paying attention to the lesson. He sat stiffly, occasionally looking down at his hands, which were reddened with fresh scars. When the midbreak gong rang out hours later, he waited until the rest of the novices had left, then rose quickly and hurried toward the door.

"Poril," she called after him. Bowing hastily toward Elben, she caught up with the boy in a few paces.

"Welcome back Poril." As he looked at her she smiled. "Need some help catching up?"

"No." He frowned and lengthened his stride.

"Poril?" Sonea reached out to grab his arm. "What's wrong?"

Poril looked at her, then glanced at the rest of the class walking further down the corridor. Regin was hovering at the back of the group, glancing at them over his shoulder and smiling in a way that sent a chill over Sonea's skin.

Poril shivered. "I can't talk to you. I can't." He shook her hand off.

"But-"

"No, leave me alone." He turned away, but she caught his arm again and held it more firmly.

"I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell me what's going on," she said between gritted teeth.

He hesitated before answering. "It's Regin."

Looking at Poril's pale face, she felt her stomach turn over. He kept looking at the other novices, and she knew he didn't want to tell her any more. He just wanted to get away from her. "What did he say?" she pressed.

Poril swallowed. "He says I can't talk to you any more. I'm sorry…"

"And you're just going to do what he says?" It was unfair, she knew, but she was burning with anger now. "Why didn't you tell him to go and drown himself in the Tarali River?"

He lifted his scarred hands. "I did."

Sonea's anger turned to ice. She stared at Poril. "He did_ that_?"

Poril's nod was so slight she almost missed it. She looked down the corridor, but the class had reached the stairs and descended out of view.

"That's… Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I can't prove it."

A truth-read would prove it. Did Poril have a secret to hide, like she did? Or was he simply so frightened of a magician reading his mind he would do anything to avoid it?

Looking at her last truth-read, it wasn't like she could blame him for that.

"He can't get away with burning your hands just because you're my friend," she growled. "If he threatens you again, tell me. I'll… I'll…"

"What? You can't do anything, Sonea." His face flushed now. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I just can't." He turned away and ran down the corridor.

Shaking her head, Sonea followed at a distance. Was this a 'safe' enough way to get at her, after her guardian change, or was Regin testing the limits? How long would it be until he realised there was nothing more she'd do about it now? That she feared the High Lord more than she feared him?

Reaching the stairs, she descended slowly. As she reached the ground floor she heard a low rumbling sound. Looking down the corridor toward the Great Hall, she blinked in surprise.

The hall was full of magicians. They stood in pairs or larger groups, talking. Sonea paused, wondering what had brought so many together. It was not a Meet day, so there must be another reason.

"I wouldn't draw attention to myself, if I were you," a voice said at her ear.

Recoiling, she turned to stare at Regin.

"They might decide they missed one," he said, his eyes bright with glee.

She stepped away from him, puzzled but sure she didn't want to know what he was talking about. His eyes flashed with delight as he saw her incomprehension, and he drew closer.

"Oh, you don't get it, do you?" His grin was ugly. "Had you forgotten? Today is that most festive day of the year for slum trash like you. The day of the Purge."

Regin laughed with delight. Feeling anger rising, she forced herself to turn and walk away. Regin stepped forward to block her path. His face was twisted with triumph and cruel satisfaction, and she felt grateful that novices did not join the Purge. Then she thought to the future and shuddered. Clearly Regin was looking forward to the day he could use his powers to chase helpless beggars and poor families out of the city.

"Don't go now," Regin said, nodding toward the hall. "Don't you want to ask your former guardian how much fun he had? Perhaps he's trying to catch himself a new slum girl, now that you've left him."

_Rothen? He wouldn't… _Sure that he was simply baiting her, she turned around. Scanning the faces, she found a familiar one in a nearby group. Rothen.

She went cold. How _could_ he have gone when he knew how she felt about the Purge? But he couldn't refuse the King's orders…

_Yes he could! Not all magicians go. He could have refused and let another go in his place!_

As if sensing her gaze, Rothen looked up and met her eyes. His attention slid to Regin, and he frowned.

Regin chuckled. Suddenly all she wanted to do was get away. Turning, she strode past Regin out of the University. Regin followed, taunting her all the way out to the Courtyard, where he was stopped.

"She's the High Lord's novice," a voice muttered. "Are you stupid? Leave her alone."

Sonea recognised Kano's voice, and caught her breath in surprise. He was defending her! Were there good sides to her new position after all? But then she remembered Poril's hands, and recoiled in horror. She couldn't let anyone get close enough to her to become a target.

She continued across the Courtyard, away from her classmates, and didn't stop until she had left behind the Guild buildings and was well up Sarika's Hill. She needed to be alone with her thoughts, and it wasn't until she had slumped down against a tree that she realised she wasn't.

"Sonea."

Rothen's expression was apologetic. She didn't answer him, turning away her face not to show the tears spilling from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I know this feels like a betrayal," he said. "I wanted to tell you I was going. I kept putting it off, and I didn't hear we were going to be called out today until earlier this morning."

"You didn't have to go," she said. Her voice sounded like that of a stranger's, dark with anger.

"I did," he said.

"No, you didn't. Someone else could have gone instead."

"True," he agreed. "But that's not why I had to go." He drew closer, his voice low and gentle. "Sonea, I had to be there, to do whatever I could to ensure no mistakes were made. If I hadn't gone, and something did happen…" He sighed. "Everyone was uneasy this time. It may be hard to perceive, but the Guild's confidence in itself was shaken by what happened last year. Whether that came from a fear of making mistakes, or," he chuckled, "another magic-wielding dwell, it doesn't matter. The Guild needed someone to keep an eye on it."

Sonea looked down. It made sense. She felt her anger fading. Sighing, she looked at him and managed a nod. He smiled hopefully.

"Forgive me?"

"I suppose," she said grudgingly.

* * *

Akkarin broke of from the Guild's underground passages onto the passages that went under the city. The Thieves' Road. Fitting, now that the man he was to meet had gotten accepted into their ranks. They had never dared barring _him_ passage here, once they knew who he was, but now he was officially allowed.

He much preferred it that way.

There had always been a risk associated with revealing his identity when on a less than official trip. Rumours of his movements and state of dress were a factor of great danger if they reached the wrong ears. The fewer people he had to reveal himself to the better, and now he only had to reveal his contact's name for others not to question him further.

Akkarin hadn't gotten far when he found a man standing in his way. He was large and broad across the chest. Akkarin nodded to him as he recognised the man.

"Morren."

"I will take you to the Thief," he said, grinning.

Morren led Akkarin on a path he didn't recognise. _Well,_ he thought, _I suppose he can hardly be expected to keep using the same safe rooms for meeting associates as he did when he started out._ He remembered the first such room he had been taken to, dark and leaky, filled with crates – a lot of which were broken – and without a second exit. Hardly an ideal place to meet for two important people of different worlds.

To be fair, few of their meetings had been held in person. Often Takan had gone in Akkarin's stead, when official meetings had demanded his, admittedly divided, attention. Lately the other man had not come himself as often either, having people working for him now.

They came into a dimly lit room which was clearly still in the process of being furnished. Most of its actual furniture stood to one side, leaving space in the middle of the room for the multitude of wooden boxes that presumably held a great deal of the smaller items the owner had.

The man he was meeting sat cross legged on a box. He smiled when Akkarin approached him.

"High Lord," he greeted.

"Ceryni. Of the thieves, now." Akkarin noted, casting back the hood of his cloak.

"Indeed." The younger man showed a set of pearly whites. "Your influence has been most helpful."

"I'm glad to hear that." He let a faint smile touch his lips. "When we started up our agreement I had hopes it would do no harm to you, but this has been better to you than I dared hope for."

"Better than I hoped for too!" Ceryni laughed. "Would you want to join me for a glass of wine to celebrate? I've got some wares here that I think would tempt even your exclusive tastes." He presented a bottle with a familiar label.

"Anuren dark?" Akkarin's eyebrows rose. "You _are _doing good for yourself. Gladly."

Ceryni brought out two glasses and uncorked the bottle. After filling both of them, he offered one to his contact. Sipping the wine carefully as to savour the taste, Akkarin felt the tension in the room slowly building. He wouldn't fool himself into thinking _this_ was the reason he had been called here, as pleasant as it was. And he wanted to take control of the situation before the other man did.

"What news do you have of our unwelcome guests?" he asked.

A slight frown spread over Ceryni's face, then it smoothed out. "The last one you… dispatched of is unlikely to resurface." He grinned. "There is a new one though," he said, suddenly serious again. "He's been killing a woman who worked as a bath attendant only yesterday, but it wasn't in my section so I've been having some trouble getting information on him. The others aren't making things easy for me, not yet. I don't think it will take much longer now though."

Akkarin's expression darkened. This was early, too early judging by the pattern they had been following before. Then again, things were going much more efficient, ever since he'd recruited Ceryni to aid him. Had Kariko finally picked up on that? Akkarin didn't look forward to the consequences of such a thing, with more sleepless nights, more secret excursions to hide and more blood on his hands. No matter how many times he killed, it never stopped feeling horrible.

"Keep an eye out, and inform me as usual when you find him," he said.

The younger man nodded. A thoughtful expression spread across his face. "There have been some other rumours I've been listening in to. I hear you've been taking up a novice."

"Yes," Akkarin admitted.

"So, Sonea?" Ceryni asked. "Why?"

Akkarin hesitated. If it came out that he was lying, he would definitely get into trouble with his contact, the man cared too much about her. On the other hand, he couldn't let the truth be known either. He had gotten himself into a really uncomfortable position, one he didn't have any easy way out of.

"She needed it," he said, careful not to let any emotions show through. "Her teachers didn't treat her as they should have, no doubt because of her background. But she is definitely worthy. I'm not sure when the Guild last had a more dedicated novice, and her magical strength had to be great. Otherwise we wouldn't have had any problems last year. When someone has lower magical potential, it never breaks out on its own."

"So you're saying more people in the slums could become magicians? Only, not as strong?" Ceryni sounded incredulous.

"Definitely. But we'd have to make them, and suffice to say, the support for that is… limited." Akkarin sighed. There was much that could have been gained by accepting more people into the Guild. Not only would it become stronger, but the prime victims of the Ichani spies would disappear from the streets.

"Good for Sonea you didn't have a choice about her."

Akkarin smiled. Yes, it was good she was in the Guild, even if she knew some troublesome things. Even if she thought her current situation was bad, she still was happy for the knowledge she was getting and what she could do with it. And even that situation would be good for her in the end, he would ensure so.

"How is she?" The man sounded anxious.

"She's… lonely," Akkarin confessed. "There are other novices who are actively pushing her away and complicates her making friends. She doesn't trust her teachers to have her best at heart either, and most of them probably don't. Outside of meeting with her old guardian, she completely absorbs herself in her studies."

"I wish I could be there for her." Ceryni sighed.

Akkarin regarded the young man soberly. He didn't look much like a Thief, however they were supposed to look, and thanks to the interruption of the guardianship Hearing there were many who wouldn't be surprised to see him with Sonea. How much harm could it do? She was well aware of the risks associated with telling anyone, and even if Ceryni picked up on something being wrong, Akkarin had already provided him with enough possibilities for him to not suspect anything deeper.

"I don't see why you couldn't, provided you are discreet enough," he said. "Guild rules would be against it, but you can be well assured _I_ wouldn't alert anyone to your occupation. She would appreciate a friend, even if he came seldom."

Ceryni's face lit up. "You would allow me? And I wouldn't bring any rub to her?"

"If you are careful enough." Akkaring paused. "She doesn't know about this… agreement between us, and I would prefer to keep it that way. But I trust you can keep a secret?"

"For a heavy client such as you? No rub!"

* * *

Tayend praised his lucky star. He would never have dreamed to spend this much time with Ambassador Dannyl, but the man had been very curious about the subject his High Lord had researched on his travels, deciding to do some secret snooping about. And Tayend was just the right man to assist him in this.

While still very busy with ambassadorial matters, Dannyl was spending most of his free time in the Great Library and the two men had struck up something of a friendly relationship. Tayend's first impressions of the other man seemed to hold true – he was unjudgemental, warm and easy to talk to. And he had to admit that the magician looked really fetching.

Was there something about those robes that turned any good looking man who wore them drop dead gorgeous? That uniformed look… The way it moved with the wearer… The power you just _knew_ was shrouded in it, a man capable of doing grand things – or terrible. Just how great said power was, you never knew, but it was there, and that was enough for Tayend.

The realisation of just how powerful that young Lord Akkarin had been had been enough for him to go pale. _To think, High Lord, while he was only in his mid twenties!_ Tayend shuddered. Even if the young magicians he had met were very attractive, he was still terrified of what they could do.

And how powerful was Dannyl? He didn't seem to be using his powers much, so it was hard to say what he could do. The most Tayend saw was that ever present globe light floating above his desk, or the quick moving of objects. Nothing really impressive, or frightening. But you never knew with magicians.

_And speaking of being impressive… _Tayend let out a faint chuckle, to low for the man sitting bent over the desk to hear. _To think that he'd actually be impressed with me! Over what amounted to a few languages known and some simple memory tricks._ The thought of a man with such impressive looks and likely impressive powers feeling that about him made him feel more than slightly flattered.

If only he could discern what else the Ambassador felt.

But of course, Dannyl couldn't be a lad. The way he had been told time and again that there was something wrong with him had made Tayend realise that such things had to be impossible. If something _was_ wrong, couldn't a Healer find it at the simplest touch? It was ridiculous to presume that the Ambassador had never needed their aid, nor that they hadn't checked when the rumours were first spread. _No, worse than that! That story he told me of that slum girl natural they caught… and the deep stab wound she had given him… Of course they'd know!_

And if they knew something like that, Dannyl would never have become Ambassador, he would probably never even have gotten to become a full magician. But he had. When reality clearly was so hopeless, why couldn't Tayend help but still hope?

A deep sigh coming from the seated man broke of Tayend's thoughts.

"There are clues missing," Dannyl said. "This can't have been all there was to the High Lord's research, he was gone for six years! He must have traveled somewhere else too."

An idea struck Tayend's mind. "The ledgers! I could go to the wharf for you, they keep track of arrivals and departures, as well as who were on the ships. If your High Lord passed through there, there will be a good chance we can find out where he went."

Dannyl nodded, then sighed again. "Find out, and not be able to follow. He had no obligations and could freely study. I'm not as lucky. Unless I get leave to do so, I'll be stuck here."

"It never hurts to check." Tayend smiled at his friend. "I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out."


End file.
